


in this field of ice

by skuls



Category: The X-Files, The X-Files: Fight the Future (1998)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 12:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10536870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuls/pseuds/skuls
Summary: Based off the prompts "things you said when no one else was around/things you were afraid to say"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Original post: https://how-i-met-your-mulder.tumblr.com/post/155002017873/things-you-said-when-no-one-else-was-around

His hand was bizarrely warm as it cupped her cheek in the ship below the earth, pushed her hair away from her face as he urged her to breathe. It had been the warmest thing in the chamber as she’d been surrounded by ice.

Now everything around them is cold and white. She tugs him closer, pressing her nose into his windblown hair at an attempt at warmth. It doesn’t work. She can’t tell if he’s asleep or not, but sleeping is bad in the cold. She shakes him slightly to jar him. “Mulder, where are we?” she asks through her ruined throat. 

“Antarctica,” he murmurs drowsily. 

She doesn’t remember much before waking up in the ice, only a searing pain in her neck and then tightening in her chest. And Mulder. His hands in her hair, and her mouth against his forehead. And the kiss. Or how close they came to a kiss. He’d tried to kiss her. “Antarctica,” she repeats softly. He went halfway around the goddamn world for her. “I can’t believe you would…”

“What, did you think I wouldn’t come?” He is half-asleep, muttering groggily into her/his coat. 

She’d known he would come because he always came. She brushes hair from his forehead, scans the terrain for any signs of life. “ _What_ did you come in?” she asks more audibly. She is tired as well, but she is also determined not to let them die here. “Did you walk?”

“Sno-Cat. No gas.” 

She keeps searching despite his conviction and finally sees it, a speck on the horizon. “It’ll be warmer there,” she says, cupping his cheek briefly before nudging him forward. They move towards the Sno-Cat, practically crawling across the snow, arms wrapped around each other to prop each other up.

It feels like an eternity, but they make it, Scully’s numb, frozen fingers repeatedly slipping, almost comically, on the handle before she jars it open. They fall in together onto the seat, Scully tugging the door closed before scrabbling across the seat to nestle against him, head hitting his chest and hair probably getting caught in the zipper. “Frostbite,” he mutters, grabbing her freezing fingers in his own. He presses a kiss to her forehead, and it is colder than it should be - not based on the climate, but based on all the times he’s kissed her there before. 

She thinks again about the hallway, about the perceptible jerk in his voice as he said _I’m sorry_ when she’d jolted away. One more second and things might be different. One more second and it might not feel so strange to lie against him like this, sharing warmth or no. 

This is definitely not the time to discuss it, nearly frozen to death in Antarctica where it is very likely they’ll never be found. But then again, this may quite literally be their last chance. If they die out here, can she bear him never knowing? She doesn’t think so. And yet fear is still coursing through her veins like the vaccine, immobilizing her. Maybe if it hadn’t been for what happened in San Diego, she’d have been ready. Maybe if she hadn’t seen him with Fowley. Maybe if he wasn’t so damn stubborn. 

He tried to kiss her. He has to feel the same way. 

“Mulder,” she says into the frozen material of his jacket. “Mulder, I wanted to kiss you. I didn’t… I was disappointed when the bee stung me.”

He doesn’t answer, and she thinks maybe she’s rendered him speechless. When too much time passes, she lifts her head to look at him. He’s unconscious, head lolling to the side. He only ever looks peaceful in sleep… or death. She presses her stiff fingers to his pulse point and finds a faint one, lets out a relieved sigh and watches her breath fade away like smoke.

Too tired to do much of anything, she curls herself around him and presses her face to the warm skin below his chin. _Maybe it’s better that he didn’t hear_ , she thinks, and hugs him closer. At the very least, maybe they can keep each other alive. Maybe she’ll tell him later. 


End file.
